Bigger than Guns, bigger than Cigarettes
by SasuNaruForever17
Summary: "Too bad I don't have me own war scars. I got out with only a few scratches, and even them are gone now-" "Don't say that, Jimmy," Thomas warned, face going stern. "You're a lucky one, to make it out fine. Lots of men are blind or missin' limbs. Others dead. So be happy that you made it out as you did." (Minor Season 4 Spoilers)


It was almost midnight by the time Thomas was able to take a bath. The day had felt extra long, what with him just coming back from America with Lord Grantham. The trip home had worn him out and it was nice to be back in a familiar space. Not that he hadn't fully enjoyed America (because he had _very _much) but Downton had been his place of residence for a good twelve or so years. Coming back left him with a sense of relief. It also left him a little… on edge.

Before he left he had told Jimmy that he'd hope to see him with some girl when he returned. Thomas had thought that maybe if he saw Jimmy in the company of someone the man truly liked (that wasn't himself, of course) then it would be easier for him to get over hid feelings for the younger.

But to no such luck. Jimmy was not even pursing Ivy and he hadn't found anyone else that captured his attention. Thomas was a bit torn at that. While he desperately wanted to keep Jimmy all to himself, he knew he couldn't. He should just be happy that Jimmy was even his friend…

Thomas gathered his night clothes and toiletries and went downstairs to the servant's bathroom. It was a tiny space, holding only a toilet, sink, and medium sized bathtub. There was also a small window over top the sink that Thomas opened. Easier for smoking.

He set down his belongings on the floor and turned on the water for the bath. Back when he first started at Downton there hadn't been hot water connected to the downstairs bath and it had been a real annoyance to heat the water by hand. As the staff at Downton grew, the Crawley's had decided to install some additions downstairs, which was nice of them.

Thomas stripped off his livery, undershirt, shoes, and socks as the bath filled with steaming hot water. He always liked a bath that was almost too hot to stand. Even in the summer months he found a piping hot tub of water felt wonderful. Probably because he was on his feet all day.

He turned off the water before it came too far up the top of the tub and slowly stepped in. He let out a sigh of complete bliss. There had been grand baths in America but Thomas had been out of his Lord's in-law's house, taking in all the sights he could in the short amount of time he had there. Now he was home where he could sit back and relax, if only for a moment.

Thomas was a bit too tall to stretch out in the tub so he had to pull up his legs, the tops of his knees sticking out the water. He leaned back and rested his arms on the top ledge of the tub. For a minute, all was peaceful and quiet. With his left hand Thomas reached to the floor and took out a cigarette and his lighter. There was nothing more relaxing than having a smoke in the bath. He lit up and returned his lighter to the floor.

As Thomas was inhaling on his delightful cancer stick, the door to the bathroom was whipped open, revealing a tight faced Jimmy. Thomas almost choked. Jimmy stepped to the toilet and threw open the lid. Thomas watched his back and he heard the zip of his trousers. With a cough he couldn't hold back anymore Thomas blinked rapidly. Smoke got into his eyes and he fanned it away.

Jimmy started at the sound and craned his head backwards, seeing Thomas for the first time.

"Ah, Mr. Barrow. Sorry. I didn't think anyone would be in here this late."

Thomas shook his head and took a few breaths, offering a smile.

"S'fine. Normally I'd be in bed but I felt I needed a bath."

Jimmy nodded at him and went back to his business. It was awkwardly silent between them as Thomas smoked, refusing to look anywhere near Jimmy. He stared at the ceiling, pushing down his feelings that he had thought maybe were disappearing ever since he had left on the trip. But now, being back and in the same room as Jimmy, it was almost suffocating. Suffocating in a way that made his throat tight and chest hurt and ears ring. Thomas wanted very much to not feel these things for Jimmy anymore. He couldn't help himself, though…

Thomas was snapped from his thoughts as Jimmy flushed the toilet and side stepped to the sink. This time Thomas watched him. Jimmy was still in his livery. He'd thought the younger had already gone to bed.

"Were you workin' still?" Thomas inquired, letting ashes fall onto the surface of the water. He had forgotten to bring a bowl with him. Pity.

Jimmy shook his hands and grabbed the hand towel next to the sink. He turned and faced Thomas, straight faced as usual. Funny, Thomas would have thought for sure Jimmy would have been somewhat uneasy and ran out the minute he was done.

"Mr. Carson had me shinin' some silver. Just finished up."

Thomas gave a small nod and met Jimmy's eyes. Any moment now he'd leave…

Jimmy put the towel back on its hook. He didn't make to leave, though. Instead, he closed the lid on the toilet and sat down on it. Jimmy's eyes stayed on Thomas's face, never straying.

"I missed y- I mean, it was dull 'round here without your witty comments and the like. Alfred was annoyin' as ever. He's shite at cards, too."

Thomas let himself smile at that. He and Jimmy always stayed up and played a hand of cards before bed. They were evenly skilled but sometimes Jimmy would pull a fast one that left Thomas out of pocket.

It was silent for a moment before Thomas watched as Jimmy's eyes flickered to his left hand. It was uncovered and held his almost finished cigarette. He saw Jimmy shift in place and lick his lips with a quick flick of his tongue. Thomas didn't move.

"So that's what it looks like then," Jimmy said, tipping his head towards Thomas's hand. The older man put out his cigarette and held up his hand toward Jimmy. The single light bulb in the room made it hard to make out the way Thomas's flesh had been torn apart and then healed back together. It wasn't _too_ bad, but it wasn't all that pretty either.

To Thomas's surprise, Jimmy slid off his sitting place and knelt on the ground, scooting closer to Thomas. "I've never seen it without the glove." Jimmy looked it over closely.

At that, Thomas grinned lightly, twisting his hand around to display the other side.

"Well, I don't much like showin' it off."

"Why not?" Jimmy asked and attentively reached up to touch the scarred flesh. Thomas was tempted to pull his hand away. He didn't, though. A deep part of him enjoyed the way Jimmy cared about his battle wound.

Thomas took a deep breath, watching as Jimmy ran his long piano fingers over the marred skin. "Dunno. Don't seem like somethin' I need to flash 'round is all."

Jimmy explored his hand for a little while more before letting it fall from his grip. He sat back on the floor, face a mask as it always was. Thin, raised eyebrows that always caught Thomas's attention were in their usual place. Jimmy went around with the same look, as if he were the king of the castle. Thomas could remember a time when he did the same thing.

"Too bad I don't have me own war scars. I got out with only a few scratches, and even them are gone now-"

"Don't say that, Jimmy," Thomas warned, face going stern. "You're a lucky one, to make it out fine. Lots of men are blind or missin' limbs. Others dead. So be happy that you made it out as you did."

Jimmy stared at Thomas, and for once his face became softer, more understanding. It was a look that make Thomas's chest ache terribly and he shivered. The bath was still warm but he felt a coldness when talking about the war. A war that didn't even manage to change him like he thought it was going to.

"Sorry. I know I'm lucky. It's just that… I wish you could have been as lucky as me."

Thomas didn't know how much longer he could sit and listen to Jimmy feel sorry for him. Was he genuine? He sure sounded like it. His left hand tingled where Jimmy had touched it. Thomas made it into a fist and brought it close to himself, sliding it into the water.

Almost three years since he had made that mistake of trying push himself on Jimmy. Three years of willing away feelings and indecent thoughts that clouded his mind. And just with Jimmy telling him he wished he was fortunate, it all came rushing back to him.

With a hard swallow Thomas shook his head. He couldn't look at Jimmy. Couldn't take his kindness, not here and now. He refused to let Jimmy see him shed even a tear, so Thomas held himself together. God, he was such a mess.

Jimmy gave him a concerned look before reaching down and finding Thomas's pack of smokes. He pulled out two and held one out for Thomas. The man waited a beat before taking it with his right hand and waiting for Jimmy to light it. Jimmy then lit his own and they both sat in quiet, watching smoke rise up and swirl out the window.

Thomas wanted to say many things. He wanted to _do_ many things too. But most of all he wanted Jimmy to know that when Jimmy had said he could never give him what he wanted, Thomas had replied with a lie. He'd said _I understand that_ when he hadn't. Jimmy had given his exactly what he wanted, even if it wasn't completely as he had first thought.

Thomas turned to Jimmy finally and looked at him. Took in his shadowed face and the way the yellow light made his hair shine. Jimmy stared back, cigarette to his lips, face a mask once more.

_You've given me the one thing I really wanted, Jimmy, and that was kindness._


End file.
